


Jealous or Crazy

by edgarallanrose



Series: Check, Please! Prompt Fills [12]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Compliant, Eric "Bitty" Bittle is Hot AF, Fluff, Jealous Jack, M/M, One Shot, SMH Football Team, Year 2 (Check Please!), but he doesn't know it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 02:34:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20127937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgarallanrose/pseuds/edgarallanrose
Summary: “What’d the football player want, eh?”“Oh!” Bitty covered his mouth and quickly swallowed the bite he just took. “He just wanted to wish us luck on the playoffs! He said ‘you guys are champs’ and then he winked? I don’t know what that was all about, but he was very nice.”“He recognized you?”“I’m just as surprised as you are,” Bitty laughed. “I didn’t even know they were coming to our games. Maybe we should start going to their games. I was looking forward to being rid of football outside of Georgia, but it might be fun. And he was so nice!”“Yeah,” Jack mumbled into his toast. “You said that already.”Or: 5 times Jack was jealous of Samwell's football players and 1 time they were jealous of him.





	Jealous or Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Notenoughgatorade: 5 times jack was jealous of samwell's football players and 1 time they were jealous of him because he and bitty got married. The prompt was inspired by [this post](https://zimmerhomme.tumblr.com/post/186442971267/bittys-fanclub) and these tweets:
> 
> @omgcheckplease: 3/18/2015 12:53:40 That moment when a massive football player corners you in the dining hall to tell you good luck on the playoffs “you guys are champs”
> 
> @omgcheckplease: 3/18/2015 12:55:45 file under: things 7th grade Eric Bittle would not expect to happen  
Unbeta'd, title from Queen Bey's "Hold Up."

1.

Jack reviewed the reading from his history seminar over a plate of scrambled eggs while the unofficially reserved SMH table in the dining hall slowly filled up for team breakfast. Shitty took his seat next to Jack, reclined his arm across the back of Jack’s chair, and took a bite of Jack’s turkey bacon. 

“Yo,” Shitty said, “who’s that guy Bits is talking to?”

Jack looked up from his book to see Bitty cornered by a guy with the broadest shoulders Jack had ever seen. The back of his shirt had the Samwell Football logo stretched across it.

“Do you think he needs help?” Jack asked.

“I dunno, it seems like they’re just talking. But I’ll keep a lookout, make sure he’s not being a dickwad.”

When the guy turned to walk away (though not before flashing a dazzling smile at Bitty, Jack noticed) he realized who it was. 

“That’s, uh, McCormick. Aaron or Austin something McCormick. He captains football.” 

“Yeah, you know him?”

“Not really.” Jack shrugged. “I’m on a chain e-mail with other Samwell captains.”

Bitty took the seat across from Jack, his tray barely on the table before he had his phone out, thumbs flying across the screen and brow furrowed in what Jack now understood as his ‘tweeting face.’ Bitty seemed a little dazed, maybe, but not upset. He paused for a moment, typed one more thing, then put the phone face down on the table and started cutting into his pancakes.

Jack nudged Bitty under the table with the toe of his sneaker.

“What’d the football player want, eh?”

“Oh!” Bitty covered his mouth and quickly swallowed the bite he just took. “He just wanted to wish us luck on the playoffs! He said ‘you guys are champs’ and then he winked? I don’t know what that was all about, but he was very nice.”

“He recognized you?”

“I’m just as surprised as you are,” Bitty laughed. “I didn’t even know they were coming to our games. Maybe we should start going to their games. I was looking forward to being rid of football outside of Georgia, but it might be fun. And he was so nice!”

“Yeah,” Jack mumbled into his toast. “You said that already.”

“Why don’t we go to other sporting events?” Shitty wondered aloud. “I don’t even think I know all the sports Samwell has to offer. Does nobody else find that weird?”

“I just wish I could go back in time and tell middle-school-Eric that one day there would be a football player who’s actually likes him,” Bitty said. 

“He said he likes you, huh?” Shitty waggled his eyebrows.

“Well, not exactly.” Bitty blushed, waving his fork in the air. “And not like _ that _ . But he’s certainly a fan.”

“Better keep your game up then.” Jack scraped some of his eggs onto Bitty’s plate. “Can’t disappoint your fans.”

Bitty rolled his eyes, but he did eat all of the eggs.

2.

“Number 15! Hey, Bittle!”

Jack turned around to see three guys leaning over the railing, waving for Bitty’s attention as they exited the ice. Bitty was walking ahead of him, keeping his head down.

“Do you want me to see what they want?” Jack asked, low to Bitty’s ear so he couldn’t be overheard. Bitty smiled back up at him, but shook his head. 

“No, it’s okay. They seem friendly enough.”

Jack still hovered by the wall as he watched Bitty walk up to them. They said something, pointing to themselves, and Bitty’s eyes widened as he laughed. They passed a phone down to Bitty and he turned around, removing a glove with his teeth so he could work the camera and take a selfie of all of them. One of the guys put bunny ears behind the head of another guy, the same guy who looked like he might faint when Bitty had removed his glove.

Bitty handed the phone back, turning to give a little wave as he walked back to Jack.

“More fans, Bittle?” Jack asked.

“The football team again!” Bitty said. “I might be getting popular.”

“Good for you,” Jack said. “But look out for those fan pages, eh?”

“Oh, they just wanted a selfie. We can’t all have stan accounts dedicated to our ass, Mr. Zimmermann.”

Jack turned back to look at the group as Bitty walked away. One of them was trying to surreptitiously take pictures of Bitty’s backside. Jack fixed him with a hard glare, and one of his friends caught it, elbowing him hard in the ribs. 

Jack glared at all three of them a moment longer for good measure before following Bitty to the locker room.

3.

When Jack showed up at the gym Sunday morning he was surprised to find Bitty already there. 

Then even more surprised to find him working out with someone else. McCormick, the football captain, who was spotting Bitty as he did some squats with weights. Spotting him very intensely. 

“Hey, Bittle,” Jack said, louder than he had intended. He internally winced. Bitty snapped his head over to Jack, wobbling a little under the weights. McCormick put a hand on his lower back to steady him. Jack seethed as McCormick smirked at him.

“Oh,” Bitty said to him, “thank you. Jack, hi! Did you want something?”

“No, I, uh.” Jack leaned on some weight equipment. “Just. What’s up?”

“Nothing?” Bitty was looking at him like he was crazy. Was he crazy? “Aiden was just helping me with my workout this morning. Gave me some good pointers.”

So it’s  _ Aiden _ now, was it?

“Hey, I was the one getting help from you,” Aiden said, dazzling that smile again. Jack could punch him in those white teeth. “You definitely know your football.”

“Oh, well,” Bitty laughed, waving a dismissive hand. “Coach’s son, you’re bound to pick up a thing or two.”

They laughed together, and Jack stood there uncomfortably, feeling like he was intruding on something.

“You know Jack, don’t you?”

“Sure, Zimmermann, right?” Aiden extended a hand, which Jack shook, because he hadn’t lost all of that Canadian politeness. Yet. “You’re always radio silence on the captain’s forum, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“I get busy,” Jack muttered. 

“Yeah, totally, I get it,” Aiden nodded. “Speaking of, I should probably get going. It was nice working out with you, Eric. We should do it again sometime.”

“Absolutely! You’ve got my number, text me anytime.”

He had his number?

“Sure thing. See you at the game?”

“Of course!”

“Cool.” Aiden shouldered his bag, turning to leave. “Later, Jack.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

Both Bitty and Jack stood silently to watch him leave.

“Do you want to come to the game with me on Friday?” Bitty asked.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Bitty frowned. “Is that a no?”

“Like you’re a piece of meat, or something.”

“Jack.” Bitty sighed. “I don’t expect you to understand, but sometimes it’s nice to just be looked at. To be admired.”

“But he--”

“Jack. I don’t want to discuss this.”

_ He doesn’t even know you, _ Jack wanted to say.  _ He doesn’t know that you’re good at so many things besides hockey. A great baker, a great dancer. Not really a great singer, but he doesn’t even know that either. He doesn’t know that you’re kind and compassionate. Selfless and funny. He doesn’t know-- _

“Did you come here to just stand around?” Bitty chirped. “Or do you want to ask me to work out with you, too?”

“Would you?” Jack asked. “I mean, only if you want. If you’re not busy. I can do stuff today that doesn’t need to be spotted if you have other things you’d--”

“Of course I want to,” Bitty said, giving him a playful smack on the arm. “Where do you want to start?”

4.

The music was pumping so loud that the Haus literally vibrated. Jack was stuck to the wall like glue, trying to participate in what would probably be his last Samwell kegster, but not really having a great time. He’d been nursing the same beer for the better part of two hours. The heat from all the extra bodies in the Haus made the air sticky. He wasn’t even dancing and sweat was still plastering the hair down at the back of his neck. 

Bitty was dancing. He looked good. He always looked good on the dance floor. He was wearing a white, deep V-neck t-shirt and the tiniest shorts Jack had ever seen on him. They must be new. Did he buy them specifically for this party? He had a hoodie on earlier but it had been tossed off at some point. The shirt was practically see through.

Jack hadn’t been able to take his eyes off him all night, but now he couldn’t risk tearing his eyes away. Bitty was dancing with two of the football players. Jack didn’t know their names, but had seen them at enough of their games to recognize them. They were being respectful, had asked Bitty before they started dancing with him. They weren’t grinding on him, and hands were kept above the belt. Then Bitty took the hands of the one in front of him and placed them on his waist. Then his head rolled back to rest on the chest of the guy behind him. 

It was totally innocent compared to a lot of the pornagraphic dancing happening all around them, but Jack’s face burned. Bitty practically glistened in the dim light of the dance floor, shirt sticking to his body, hips rolling with the rhythm. 

Bitty turned his head and aimed his gaze directly at Jack. Like he knew he had been watching. His eyes were hooded, lips slightly parted as he kept moving between the other two guys. He didn’t break eye contact once.

Jack had to leave the room, tossing his beer into an open garbage bag as he took the stairs two at a time back up to his room. Someone might have called his name as he left, but it was loud enough that he could pretend not to hear.

5.

The graduation ceremony had ended and Jack had taken pictures with more people than he realized he knew. A summer breeze was whipping across Lake Quad, the bells from Founders joyfully ringing through the air. Jack was having a conversation with his father and one of his French professors when he spotted Bitty across the way, still hovering like there was somebody else he wanted to talk to. Then Aiden McCormick approached him, wearing that stupid smile along with his cap and gown.

<Jack? I asked you a question,> Bob said.

<Sorry, Papa,> Jack said, forcing his eyes away from Bitty and Aiden. <What was it?>

Bob turned to see Jack’s line of vision, then looked back with a smile. <Did you not say goodbye to Bittle yet?>

<No, uh, not really.>

<Well, go on then.> As Jack walked away he heard his father telling the professor, <yes, his teammate! They played first line together!>

Aiden walked past Jack as he approached Bitty.

“See you around, Captain Jack,” Aiden said with a little nod. “I hope you have better luck than me.” 

Aiden was already walking away before Jack could ask what he meant. He looked over to Bitty to try and get a clue, but he was only scrolling through the photos on his phone.

“You’re still hanging around?” Jack asked. “Or didn’t we post enough ‘selfies’?”

“Oh!” Bitty turned, eyes wide and rich brown in the afternoon sun. “Jack!”

They spoke for a few short moments, and hugged their goodbyes. Bitty hung on to the sleeves of his gown.

“Jack, I...I…” Bitty stuttered at the ground. “I-I guess the next time I’ll see you will be on TV, huh!”

“What? Bittle, I’ll drive up before the season starts.”

“Oh, of course!” Bitty fiddled with Jack’s tie, straightening it then setting it flat against his chest before stepping away from him. “Well, you get on outta here before you make me late for my flight!”

“Hah. See you, Bittle.”

And Jack watched Bittle walk away.

Jack said more goodbyes, shook more hands, but his stomach felt hollow. He sat through his mother's alumni event, but he couldn’t get Bitty out of his head. Their final conversation. Bitty was acting like they would never speak again. But Jack could never let that happen. Wouldn’t let that happen. Didn’t Bitty know that?

“Those alumni events get longer every year,” Bob said, breaking him from his thoughts. “Ready to head back to the hotel?”

“Yeah, almost. I just, uh…”  _ I have to see Bitty. _ “I feel like...I haven’t really said goodbye to everyone.”

“Well, it’s a bit too late to take another lap around the rink!”

“No...not that.”

“Ah.” Bob clapped a hand on his shoulder.

And suddenly, as put in the passively suggestive way that only his father knew how, everything started making sense. Why he was constantly trying to get Bitty alone, vying for his attention. Why he sought him out whenever he was lonely, or sad. Why he couldn’t take his eyes off him when he danced at parties. Why those football players had been getting on Jack’s nerves all semester.

“Oh.” Jack said. He was such an idiot. “Euh. J’reviens.”

Jack sprinted across the quad. Hopefully Bitty hadn’t left for the airport yet. Jack needed to give him a proper goodbye.

+1

“It was nice of Eric to invite us,” Jackson said, taking another bite of cake. “I think he made this cake? Christ, I could eat this forever.”

“Yeah, you know he still keeps up with me? He sent me a card and a pie when I retired from playing,” Treyvon said.

“I had such a crush on him in college,” Aiden said, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he watched Bitty feed Jack some of the cake off his plate at the wedding party table.  _ God _ , they were cute.

“Man, we all had a crush on him in college,” Treyvon laughed.

“You remember when we changed our jogging route to go past their frat, just in case he might be outside in those shorts again?”

“Oh god, the shorts!”

“Now he only wears short shorts for one man.”

“A very lucky man,” Aiden added, raising a glass. “To Jack, the bastard, who rightfully won the heart of Eric Bittle, aka Super Fine 15.”

“As if we ever had a chance,” Jackson shook his head. “To Jack!”

“To Jack!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading every body!
> 
> You can reblog this ficlet on tumblr right over [here.](https://edgarallanrose.tumblr.com/post/186800911485/edgarallanrose-a-prompt-from-notenoughgatorade)
> 
> As of today (8/5/19) this is the last of the tumblr prompts that I needed to cross-post over here. I will plan on accepting prompts over on tumblr again towards the end of August. Other projects include the OMGCP Big Bang which I should be able to share later this fall, and I have an ongoing Nurseydex WIP that I swear one day I will finish so I can begin posting it here lol. In the meantime, you can follow and/or subscribe to keep up with my writing and see the next time I'm accepting prompts, or just come say hi to me!


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